


Salty Sweet

by giantmonsterdad (ChaoticFayth)



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Fluff, M/M, colleagues to friends to lovers to enemies to lovers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-21
Updated: 2019-08-21
Packaged: 2020-09-23 04:47:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20334316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChaoticFayth/pseuds/giantmonsterdad
Summary: Vexen never expected to come back from betraying Organization XIII. All he ever wanted to do was to save Ansem the Wise, and bring him home again.





	Salty Sweet

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rottendeadpan](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=rottendeadpan).

> Soft spoilers for Kingdom Hearts 3. If you’ve gotten about halfway through the game then you’re probably fine.

As soon as word filters down to his lab, Even—no, _ Vexen _ again, he has to remind himself—can’t will his hands to stop shaking. He’d put himself here, back in the Organization on purpose, and both those purposes had come to fruition in quick succession. His successful replicas, and now this.

Ansem the Wise, Sage-King of Radiant Garden, directly in Xehanort’s crosshairs.

Vexen fumbles with his notes, listening as papers rustle in his unsteady hands. None of this can be left here, where his work would be misused. Every note, encoded or not, finds its way into a portfolio and tucked neatly into the blankets surrounding his latest—and final, considering current events—vessel. He doesn’t expect to come back from this mission he’s crafted for himself. It’s his endgame, what he’s built towards since his recompletion. 

The only lesser nobodies he can gather are Dusk, mischievous as they are. Do they know of the treason he’s about to direct them into? That they’re most likely to perish against a foe stronger than all of them? Vexen doesn’t even have his shield to rely upon, a crack fissured across the surface from fights with a wayward young keybearer. Useless, especially in the face of the Seeker of Darkness. 

For the time being, Vexen focuses on his self-made mission. With a knowing look, Saïx distracts their betters, giving the academic enough time to slip from the lab without notice. There’s no way that he could survive the Realm of Darkness as it is now, so he has to use his intellect to figure out where Xehanort will take Ansem. All signs point to the Manor, where Vexen had already poured over notes left behind by their old Master and had discovered very little in the way of actual information. If not for the suspicion it would raise, Vexen would make the place his home base—what with all the memories held within. Memories that center squarely on Ansem in the months before his apprentices betrayed him. Bittersweet moments that Vexen has dwelled upon for the past decade.

Vexen arrives to find that someone has already beaten him to the punch. A group of young someones, not keybearers, and in over their heads. It’s the Dusk he sends in to cover them, but there’s not a way in the worlds that Xehanort doesn’t know exactly who is disrupting the mission. Who else would go against the entire Organization to save Ansem the Wise? 

He has to work quickly to follow the young heroes and cover their trails from the Seeker of Darkness himself. Each step echoes with him that he has to work quickly. Not just to make sure that they’ve succeeded—to see Ansem with his own two eyes—but to tie the mission closed. Just seeing Ansem for the first time in a decade would be enough to stop his heart in his chest were it still there. Where he expects to see anger he insteads sees an expression of soft surprise; No hint of hurt in Ansem’s deep, familiar voice. It takes all of Vexen’s restraint to leave the scene and not to merely linger in Ansem’s presence. The Dusk he leaves with the children as some extra protection, telling them that he’ll be back soon to take Ansem home.

Ansem catches Vexen by the wrist before he can leave. 

“Even,” To hear his own name on Ansem’s lips once again whisks all the breath from Vexen’s lungs. The hand on his wrist squeezes gently, almost fondly. “Stay safe.”

All he can do is nod in return. It’s too much, to be so close to Ansem after so long. There’s too much that he wants to say, most of which shouldn’t be said in their current company. Moments ago, Vexen was satisfied with the idea of not coming back from this mission. Now, the only thought in his head was coming back to Ansem intact. Ansem loosens his grip on Vexen’s wrist, fingertips trailing down, across Vexen’s hand briefly and doesn’t break eye contact the whole while. Before Vexen can get lost in those startling orange eyes he summons a dark corridor around himself. 

There’s still too much to do and he can’t be caught with his regrets quite yet.

Surprisingly, Demyx is easy to convince to help, and Vexen directs him to the blank vessel he left behind with his notes. Surely Xehanort has alerted the Organization to his treachery, but Demyx is enough of an unknown to slip in and out of the lab without much notice. Vexen collects Ansem soon after, having given the children a few hours to get what information that they wanted from the Sage-King. Ansem promises them that they’ll all speak again after this is all over. With Roxas as well, he promises. Ansem always caught on faster than even Vexen expected. 

The two of them are to meet Demyx in Radiant Garden. It’s Demyx’s idea to make a big, showy entrance to the castle. No surprise that he’s not there when they arrive, considering he has to cover his tracks as he goes, but it does leave Vexen alone in the presence of Ansem. For the first time in a decade. And he’s shaking again.

“Where _ is _that idiot?” Vexen hisses under his breath, gaze darting around the currently empty courtyard, as though he can will Demyx to appear. One of the few times when he’s incredibly glad that his uniform coat has incredibly long sleeves that hide his quaking hands. 

“Has this always been your plan?” Ansem’s voice breaks through his searching gaze, and Vexen has to fix his line of sight on the distant castle gates to keep from turning to face the man at his side. 

“Since recompletion, yes.” Vexen flexes his hands slowly, trying to focus on anything else. 

“And you knew the Organization would find me first?” This time, Ansem’s voice is closer. He’s leaned in toward Vexen’s side, and despite the heaviness of his uniform, Vexen feels a chill run down his spine. 

“I also needed their resources to craft new vessels,” He brings a hand up toward his face, the back of his hand rubbing against his own mouth and cheek in a nervous tic that he’s had for years. But, Ansem catches him by the wrist once again. 

“Thank you,” Such a quiet sentiment catches all of Vexen’s attention and he turns to watch Ansem’s face finally. The man has hardly aged a day in the past decade, still as handsome and regal as he ever was. Barely voluntarily, Vexen takes a step in toward Ansem, transfixed on features that he’s only dreamt about for years. A part of him wants to lean the rest of the way, to kiss Ansem in the courtyard and damn the consequences.

Now isn’t the time, as a throat clears just feet from them. 

“You two need a minute?” Demyx is giving them both a raised brow look when Vexen’s gaze snaps back to him. Moment shattered around them, Vexen all but yanks his wrist out of Ansem’s grasp to instead scowl at Demyx.

“It’s about time. All you had to do was retrieve _ one _ vessel.”

“And dodge a bunch of scary powerful Nobodies, don’t forget that part.”

Vexen scoffs, waving his hand dismissively. “Enough of that, we have a job to do.”

Both Demyx and Ansem return to the castle first, leaving Vexen in the courtyard to watch for any who may have followed. The good news is that they seem to have gotten free for the time being, and the sun sets on Radiant Garden with no sign of any other Nobodies than those already present. 

This time, Vexen decides to not use the dark corridors any longer. His resolve tells him that when he steps in the castle, his mission will be complete. By all intents and purposes, he’ll stop being Vexen once more and return to Even. Head Scientist of Radiant Garden, oldest apprentice to Ansem the Wise. Of course, they’ll have to find a way to get rid of the power granted to him by Master Xehanort, but everything else will come to a close.

The steps leading up to the castle are taller than he remembers—or perhaps he’s a decade older and filled with guilt. Perhaps at the end of these steps stands a life that he’s barely thought about resuming, the end of a mission he thought would kill him. 

Dilan opens the castle doors for him when he approaches, obviously told of the last arrival for the night. Vexen—no, Even now—tries to not linger on the incredulous look that Dilan gives him as he enters the castle. He had to keep his mission a secret from all of them, lest his cover with the Organization be blown before his success. Though reconstruction is ongoing, Even remembers the halls as they spread out before him. He’s not certain where he should go once he is in the place he should call home. 

To the laboratory, to let Ienzo know that he’s returned?   
To his old living quarters to find a change out of the Organization’s uniform?   
To Ansem, now that they have time to speak?

Even ends up in his own bedroom, looking as though he’d just left it. Bed made, closet immaculate. There’s even his secondary lab coat draped over the end of the bed, not yet hung up from the day before. He dresses almost automatically, muscle memory guiding him through the motions, and is tying his ascot in front of the mirror before he actually takes note of his appearance. The bright yellow that has overpowered the color of his eyes doesn’t seem quite as sharp. If he stares long enough, Even can almost see the hints of green that should be there naturally. 

But, how? 

To revert from the energy that had been given to him, the darkness granted from Xehanort, strong emotions from his heart would have to override it. It’s not as though he’d been truly turned back into a Nobody. Was returning home enough of an emotional connection to turn him back to his original self? It couldn’t be.

Dragging himself away from the mirror in front of him, Even resigns to reacquainting himself with the castle proper. It’s been too long since he was in the lab, his original lab. Perhaps, at this time of night, it’d be empty and he could spend time in it without interruption. Without Ienzo’s sad puppy face in his peripheral. Unfortunately, the echo of voices from within tells him that he won’t be able to get away with an appearance in his old space. So he ends up wandering old halls and ghosting through memories that ache deep down in a place he’s kept himself from feeling for over 10 long years. Guards, both stoic and comfortable in their comraderie. The few scientists they’d kept in their retinue, mainly young and full of new ideas. Ienzo, the son he’d always wanted, who at nearly 15 was still so very small. 

And Ansem.

These halls had seen more of Even and Ansem than any of the others. They were the eldest, once apprentices in their own right, grown to masters of their field. Even had watched fondly as Ansem grew from apprentice to the previous King—let alone the fact that Ansem was Crown Prince, even with his cravings for knowledge and wreckless experiments—to Sage King himself. 

Ansem, the Wise.   
Ansem, the kind-hearted and ever youthful.  
Ansem, the one that Even loved.

In walking and retrospect, Even ends up on the balcony outside the castle’s galley. Best view of the garden to be had. Despite the end of things looming on the horizon once again, Even sees smoke stacks from the castle town, hears the echoes of machinery all around. This past decade, the world has healed in spite of their actions. Life has returned once more. He leans on the railing, admiring the work of the Restoration Committee, and doesn’t notice the company that quietly settles in next to him. Not until a breeze catches the edge of a crimson scarf and nearly flutters it into his face, that is. Even stands upright with a start, whirling to catch the scarf in his hands before he even truly knows what he’s doing.

His grip is tight on Ansem’s token red where it rests cowl-like around his neck, and this time it seems that Ansem isn’t carefully prepared for such a reaction. Ansem’s brows knit in concern, his hands raised in a gesture of surrender.

“You should know better,” Even starts before he can particularly process the fact that he’s been riled at all. “Than to sneak up on me, after everything. And don’t you look at me like that!” Chilly hands flex in the soft fabric he’s gripping with all of his strength. But he can’t stop looking at those brilliant orange eyes, or the worry written into every line on Ansem’s face. A moment of silence passes before Even realizes that he’s acting irrationally to the other man’s presence. That perhaps he hasn’t recovered enough to leave himself unguarded, open to the outside world. And that Ansem had come to him, quietly, unprovoked.

Through scarf and labcoat and clothes beneath, Ansem is warm. Ever warm to Even’s chilly exterior and all Even wants to do is wrap himself in his old lover’s arms and let the world be as it will. His gaze flickers down from worried creases in the man’s face, to softly parted lips, and once again Even moves without thinking. He yanks Ansem to him with the grip on his scarf and kisses him fully. Ansem’s lips part further in surprise, but Even feels hands settle on his wrists, keeping him there. 

A decade has passed since his treachery, and yet Ansem tugs on Even’s sleeves, encouraging the kiss. Ansem still tastes subtly salty and sweet, is still warm and soft against his lips. Even closes his eyes to savor the moment, a reunion he doesn’t deserve, and only pulls away for breath. What he’s greeted by is Ansem’s tender smile, something that Even had only dreamt of setting his sights on again. It’s been so long.

“Please tell me there’s a room you two oldies can get somewhere,” Demyx’s voice shatters the moment, and Even slowly turns his head to find the kid just in the door of the galley, drink with straw in one hand. “Somewhere that isn’t here because you’re gonna ruin appetites with all this—“ Demyx gestures with his free hand to the both of them. “—mushy-gushy stuff.”

Even’s on the verge of snapping at the unruly blonde, despite. the boy helping his coup and doing his bidding, but a calm and collected Ansem interjects before Even can muster up his words.

“Yes. We have a lot to—discuss.” Ansem gently pries Even’s hands from his scarf finally, taking them both in his own, and Even can’t object. Not when those warm and familiar hands are holding his once again. Not when Ansem leads him off and away, from the galley and in the direction of what Even remembers to be the royal quarters.

Even doesn’t particularly even hear Demyx’s “Gross!” echoing behind them as they leave.

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve had this in progress since March but hey, it’s hard to work on fic when you’re out of a computer and off your meds. Thanks for being patient, ya’ll. Based off art from @rottendeadpan, (https://twitter.com/rottendeadpan/status/1099456212813443072?s=21).
> 
> twitter: @giantmonsterdad  
tumblr: therealzombiecaptain


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